


Mortality Rate

by ArgyleMN



Series: Bryce Lahela/Cassie Vanderfield - Canon Universe One Shots [4]
Category: Open Heart (Visual Novels)
Genre: Blood, Canon Compliant, Death, F/M, Friendship, Medical Jargon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24509887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgyleMN/pseuds/ArgyleMN
Summary: Bryce finds an unexpected comfort in a friend after a very rough day. Set just after Chapter 10 of Open Heart book 1.
Relationships: Bryce Lahela/Main Character (Open Heart)
Series: Bryce Lahela/Cassie Vanderfield - Canon Universe One Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768597
Kudos: 9





	Mortality Rate

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for explicit discussions of blood and death.

Bryce sighed heavily, wrapping his jacket around him more tightly. He didn’t like that it was only October and he was contemplating pulling out his heaviest coat. It did _not_ bode well for him tolerating winter in Boston, that was for sure.

Orange, yellow, and brown leaves coated the sidewalk and crunched beneath his feet as he made his way back to his apartment. Bryce could imagine that for people who grew up with Fall and changing leaves, this was just part of the season. That it seemed like a natural, normal event. But for him, all they did was remind him of death and decay, with their crumbling edges and black and brown rotten holes. The bare branches above him were a similar vision, empty and bleak. All in all, it served as a fitting representation of his day. 

It had been a bad case from the start. Ruptured aortic aneurysms carry about a 50% mortality rate… if they are lucky enough to make it to the OR. Bryce knew that as a fact when he scrubbed in. But this one felt different. The time from collapse to ED to OR was quick. They established vascular access quickly. He really thought Mr. Hendricks was gonna beat the odds.

But the stent occluded the renal arteries and Telana just couldn’t get it repositioned. So they’d had to open him up and recannulate the kidneys with bypass grafts, but his tissue just wouldn’t hold the stitches. It was a bloody mess, culminating in cardiac arrest. V. fib due to loss of blood volume. Bryce had done compressions for 16 minutes before Telana called it. His arms still were sore and burning. The pain made it hard to forget the sheer mess that was the case.

Bryce didn’t know why this one was affecting him so much. He’d had plenty of patients die on him. And it’s not like Mr. Hendricks was a particularly young man or that the outcome was unanticipated given his presentation. But this one stuck with him. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been scheduled for repair next week. Bryce remembered him from clinic, signing the consent forms, telling Bryce that he was looking forward to seeing his grandkids in their Halloween costumes prior to his surgery. He’d probably been walking around with this aneurysm for years, and his aorta couldn’t hold out for eight more days? What shitty luck.

He’d contemplated heading to Donahue’s, but he hadn’t really wanted to plaster on a happy face when he inevitably ran into some other residents. So he was headed home. Alone. Listening to the crunching sound of death and decay surrounding him every step of the way.

A new sound joined the crackle of the leaves beneath his feet as his phone vibrated twice in his pocket. He pulled it out, checking to see who was texting him. He sighed. It was Cassie.

_Turns out the walls here are hella thin and sienna and wayne have decided to have a massive fight._

_You interested in some company tonight?_ 😉

Bryce shoved his phone back in his pocket. As much as he liked Cassie, he was definitely not feeling up for _that_ tonight. But not two minutes later, he felt his phone start buzzing again.

_Plz so desperate here._

_I will make pancakes for bfast tomorrow for our day off._

_They are so loud, just help a girl out._

Bryce sighed, digging in his other pocket for his keys, trying to think up an excuse for Cassie. After a few seconds of searching, not only in his jeans, but also in his jacket, he realized it was all a moot point. He must have left his keys in his locker. Hard to host when even he was locked out.

Pulling out his phone, he shot Cassie a quick reply. _Sorry, real shit day and just realized my keys are in my locker. Rain check?_

He had just taken a few steps back towards Edenbrook when his pocket buzzed again.

_How shit are we talking? I got pimped in the OR and didn’t know the answer or I had to hide out in a supply closet?_

Bryce paused and sighed. _The latter. I’m just gonna head back to grab my keys then crash._

_I’ll go grab em. Edenbrook is basically right in between our places._

Her response caught him off guard. His first instinct was to call her up, insist that he was alright and that she didn’t need to go get his keys, that he would be fine on his own. But he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to keep his voice calm enough to convince her he was okay. And now that she had this plan, a text from him was not going to be enough to stop her. That was something they had in common; they both preferred action over pacivity. If he were in her shoes, he would be the same way.

So instead, he sank down on the steps of his building, huddled in his jacket, thinking about Mr. Hendricks as he watched the leaves fall and swirl around on the sidewalk, some orange like the light on the bovie, some yellow like Telana’s mask, some red like the arterial blood spilling into the abdomen, all constant reminders that everything dies, and at the end of the day, the mortality rate is always 100%. 

He waited there, going over the case in his mind again and again. It could have been 10 minutes, it could have been 110 minutes, Bryce wasn’t really sure, but eventually he saw her pale skin and dark hair out of the corner of his eye, striding briskly down the sidewalk. She had a cardboard tray with to-go cups in phone hand, her other shoved in the pocket of her jacket.

“Hey, Cassie. You find my keys okay?” He called out, hoping his voice sounded lighter than he felt.

“Yeah, they were right there in your locker. Good thing I found them before some envious surgical resident,” she teased as she tossed him the keys. He plastered on a smile as he caught them, but it must have been a poor imitation, because Cassie stared at him deeply and frowned before joining him as he unlocked the front door. 

She stayed silent with him as they climbed the steps to his third floor apartment, and didn’t say anything at first when they entered. Instead, she placed the coffees on his table before she spoke again.

“Alright, another resident, attending, or patient? And do we need this?” she asked as she pulled a flask out of her bag.

“Patient and no,” Bryce replied, actually smiling slightly as she shrugged, shoving the flask back in her bag. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked as she handed him one of the coffees before taking hers and moving to his couch.

Bryce took a sip of the coffee, letting the warmth seep into him. He wasn’t sure whether talking about it would be helpful or not. But Cassie took his prolonged silence into her own hands.

“The fact that you are debating telling me what happened for this long probably means you _need_ to talk about it.”

He nodded tentatively as he walked over and sat next to her on the couch. He allowed himself one more sip of his coffee before he purged his soul, telling her about Mr. Hendricks and the surgery. About meeting him in clinic. About how he was one week away from having the aneurysm electively repaired until fate got in the way today. About how he never would get to see his grandkids Halloween costumes. She didn’t say anything, just let him keep talking, but at some point she reached over and grabbed his hand, running her thumb over his knuckles as he poured his heart out. Eventually he reached the end, and simultaneously relieved and embarrassed. “So yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Bryce, you have nothing to be sorry about. This job can be hard. I would know.”

“Yeah, _exactly_. You have your own horror stories to deal with. You don’t need mine as well.”

Cassie just shook her head. “We gotta look out for each other, Bryce. Otherwise, we’re all gonna burn out.”

He sighed, contemplating her words. He knew there was wisdom to what she said, he understood that intellectually. Hell, he’d listened to other residents vent on numerous occasions, understanding the importance of talking about the disturbing shit they saw. It still just felt wrong to be the one unloading on someone else. “I just don’t know why this case is hitting me like this,” he said, pulling his hand free from hers and running it through his hair.

“Because you’re human.”

“But they don’t all affect me so much.”

Cassie ran her fingers along the lid of her coffee before she spoke. “In M1 anatomy lab, I was completely fine with our cadaver for weeks. Nothing about dissecting it affected me until we got to the leg. The toe nails were painted bright pink, and I don’t know, something about seeing that visual reminder of a choice that had been made, a mark of self-expression that was still there long after death, I don’t know. It just messed with me.

“It’s hard to know which patient or which event is going to resonate with you, but sometimes they do. And that’s okay, Bryce. It doesn’t mean you aren’t a good doctor.”

“That’s easy for you to say. It’s different when you’re in the OR. I have to maintain some sense of-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Cassie said, her voice slightly firmer than it had been earlier. “First, we all have to be objective in the moment, so believe it or not, I do understand. Second, were you overcome by emotions in the OR, or were you able to compartmentalize in that moment?”

“I was just focused on what needed to happen; I was visualizing the next steps.”

“Then your emotional response was fine. You’re allowed to feel things after the fact. It doesn’t make you weak or anything.”

Bryce nodded. “I know. It just doesn’t make it easy.”

“If being a doctor were easy, everyone would do it. It’s the best job in the world.”

He looked her in the eye and gave her a smile. She was right. About all of it. But processing the shit they saw was something he was still working on, and quick frankly, he’d had enough of it for one night.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“What kind of liquor does Cassie Vanderfield carry around with her?”

If Cassie was thrown by his shift in conversation topics, she didn’t show it, instead smiling and shaking her head. “It’s not always in my bag,” she said with an eye roll. “I meant to bring whiskey for Irish coffees, but it turns out Jackie finished off our whiskey at our last party, so I had to substitute tequila.”

Bryce grimaced, “God, I’m glad I didn’t say yes to the booze. That sounds completely disgusting, Cassie!”

“I know, but it was either that or Sienna’s blue raspberry vodka, which I think we can agree sounds even worse,” she said with a chuckle, leaning her head to the side as she rubbed her face. A flash of red caught Bryce’s eye. There, caught in the side of her bun was a leaf. So, he reached over and grabbed it, showing it to Cassie before dropping it on the coffee table.

“Oh my God; that was stuck in my hair?”

Bryce grinned at her, then grabbed his coffee from right next to the leaf. The crumbling red and brown still reminded him of death, but somehow it didn’t feel as morbid as it did 30 minutes ago. Sitting there, with an actual friend, well it took the edge off in a way that whiskey, tequila, or blue raspberry vodka never could.


End file.
